


RT Academy for Exceptional Young People

by itsemili



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Boarding School, Gen, but more like alt. universe spy school, pretty much all the AH people and then some
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-11-30
Updated: 2013-12-03
Packaged: 2018-01-03 01:10:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1063879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itsemili/pseuds/itsemili
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>RT Academy for Exceptional Young People is a fairly typical boarding school-that is, if every school taught advanced martial arts in PE and the latest in chemical warfare in science, and students received extra credit for breaking CIA codes in computer class. RT Academy might claim to be a school for geniuses but it’s really a school for spies.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

JJ knows everything before anyone else does. Michael doesn’t ask how he knows it, and honestly he’s pretty sure the answer would be more in-depth than he want to deal with. So instead he simply sits there, listening to JJ debrief him in French over that morning’s breakfast. Granted, Michael is only half paying attention, he’s focused on the dark red head and the young Brit she’s talking to.

Lindsay Tuggey is only fifteen, but has done more than most people have in their entire life. Both her parents are CIA agents, currently on loan to MI6. She spends her summers with them, going on missions, and always has the best stories to tell when she comes back from break. Which is currently what she’s going on about. Michael can only hear bits, but he’s caught the French words for assault rifle {fusel d’assaut} more than a handful of times.

The boy with her, Gavin Free, is laughing maniacally about the story. Michael is pretty sure he doesn’t know anything she’s saying; he’s barely mastered the English language, he definitely can’t speak French. 

"Hé," JJ smacks Michael on the arm with the clipboard he’s been reading things off of, "Est-ce que vous ecoutez?"

"Yes." Michael lies with a straight face. He assumes that it’s something mundane about how they’ve let another bout of those Canadian transfer students in or how Professor Heyman is still on his ‘buy gold’ schtick. JJ simply roles his eyes crosses something off on his list.

"— and that’s why you never eat dark green moss." Ray is halfway through a sentence when plops down beside Michael. He always does that, starts stories before he’s actually reaches the person he was planning on talking to. Michael has still never found out how the horse and the pumpkin patch story starts.

Ray is probably the most important student this school has ever had; he was admitted to the academy when he was twelve, two years younger than any other admit in the history of the academy. By the time he was fourteen, he had surpassed even his P.E. teacher in hand-to-hand combat.

Sufficed to say, he was integral in opening doors for other students. When they wanted to invite foreigners, younger students, and later when they opened their doors to girls, Ray was always the example being used. Michael’s sure that wouldn’t have been the case if they ever actually brought Ray in to speak to the acceptance committee.

"Vous devez parler en français." Michael smirks at Ray; they are both fluent now in fourteen languages — fifteen if you include Morse Code. And while he never actually adhere to the dining hall’s mandatory ‘language of the day,’ Michael still likes to fuck with the younger boy whenever he can.

The sign at the front of the room that had previously shows “French” in bright white letters changed to “English - All dialects” and there was a collective sigh from the first year students who had yet to master any foreign languages. Ray laughs, showcasing his infamous toothy grin, and Michael can’t help but join him. 

However, they, and everyone else, fell silent when Headmaster Michael Burns enters the hall. He’s the youngest headmaster the school has ever had, but also the most qualified. He single handedly took out a terrorist cell in Bangladesh when he was just eighteen. 

He was followed by his Deputy Head, Matt Hullum, who was fresh off of a field mission. Rumors had been circulating since that morning, so far the most believable one was the one JJ propositioned. “He was on mission in Copenhagen. Had to sneak into the Amalienborg place, got to hang out with the royal family. Heard the broken arm was from a nasty jump off the gate house.”

The two make their way to the staff table at the front of the room where most of the school’s teachers were currently sat. There were a few empty seats, but the one that had caught everyone’s attention was the empty covert-ops seat. It had previously been occupied by Mrs. King, a stubborn old lady who’s claim to fame was taking out a Nazi machine gun on D-Day. Sufficed to say, everyone was hoping she would retire and it seems she had.

Lindsay slid down the table, Gavin close behind her, until she was pressed up next to JJ who was looking more and more disgruntled by the whole situation. “Hey homies,” She said just above a whisper, giving a small nod to both Michael and Ray who each returned it. 

Mr. Burns, or as almost every student called him, Burnie, approached the podium that stood just between the staff table and the students tables. Lindsay had pointed out last year that this set up was identical to the Harry Potter set up, and it launched a huge debate on which house everyone would be in. Michael secretly hoped she’d do it again this year. 

"Students of RT Academy, who comes here?" Burnie asked, his voice booming above the silent halls. 

Just then, every student at every table (even the new recruits) stood and said in unison, “We are the children of justice.” 

"Why do you come?" He asked, and Ray snickered next to Michael.

"To learn skills. To honor the sword. And to keep valued secrets."

"And to what end do you work?"

"To the cause of good and the light."

"How long will you strive?"

"For all the days of our lives." As they finished, Michael made a small, fake retching noise. Could they be any more ridiculous? He was pretty sure the answer was no. They were dismissed to finish their unpacking before classes started the next day. As everyone around them moved, they stayed put.

"Gavin was telling me you guys lucked out and got put together in a room again." Lindsay said, attempting to talk over the stamped like noises around them.

"It wasn’t luck." JJ responded, crossing something else off his list. 

She rolled her eyes fondly and sighed, “And you couldn’t have put me with someone better than that stuck-up, know-it-all Congressman’s daughter and her weird, goth friend?” 

They went on like this, laughing and poking fun at each other. Caleb Denecour, potentially the smartest kid any of them knew — which was saying something because they were all certifiable geniuses — and Kerry Shawcross, the newest addition to their ragtag group eventually joined them. Both of them were dusty, and cobwebs hung on the bottom of their jeans. 

"Got lost in the walls again, didn’t you?" Michael asked, and both Kerry and Caleb gave him exaggerated eye rolls while they ate the abundance of French Toast sticks still on the table from breakfast.


	2. Chapter 2

The first day was usually routine; boring, not worth checking in for. Regardless, they all stumbled in, bleary eyed, to the great hall an hour before any of their classes started. 

"Can someone tell me why we have to take this stupid etiquette class?" Lindsay asked, gesturing to the wrinkled schedule she'd sat in front of them. While the seven of them were spread out in age they had managed to place into the same grade level. Michael was pretty sure JJ had something to do with it, but let the chips fall where they may. 

"Probably because some of us," Michael paused to stare pointedly at Gavin and Ray who were building a house out ripped up pieces of pancake, "need a little etiquette." 

"Says Sir. Rage-a-lot." Muttered Ray under his breath, not looking up from his lopsided, pancake brownstone. Michael's response was a dramatic eye-roll that he could tell no one fully appreciated.

JJ had slid the list out of the center of the group and was currently pouring over it with Lindsay. He could point to a class and the two of them would mutter quiet comments to each other before agreeing on something. Michael agreed that avoiding whatever it was they were planning was for the best.

"Oi!" Gavin nearly shouted, downing his orange juice before continuing, "We've got a class in five minutes." In near perfect synchronization, everyone else at the table looked at their watches. 

"Fuck." Michael muttered, grabbing his dingy backpack off the ground and securing it before taking off running out of the hall, his friends in line behind him. 

Two flights of stairs and a very daunting hallway full of newbies later, and they'd made it with a minute to spare. Michael let out a sigh of relief, tossing his bag onto an empty lab table. At least he was getting in his recommended pre-P&E cardio for the day.

On time to the second, Professor Haywood -- or was it Doctor Haywood now? -- entered the room. He was one of the few people who legitimately intimidated Michael, he'd heard far too many rumors about the man to think of him as just another teacher. 

They didn't have 'rate my professor' for RT Academy, but the CIA's encrypted files were comparable. Apparently, for being just 23, Ryan Haywood had made some serious enemies. And destroyed nearly everyone who threatened him. An NSA coder gone rouge, Michael'd read files about him referring to the man as "The Mad King." 

"Good Morning, students." he greeted the class, sipping what they could only assume was black coffee from a plain, white mug save for the small Academy logo on the front of it. "This is Cryptanalysis. You'll be encoding, decoding, hacking and if you're lucky, passing this class."

Michael could practically feel JJ smirking behind him; he was also pretty sure he could also hear Lindsay sighing dejectedly to his right. The professor glanced down at the binder on his desk and then back at the class, examining them. 

"For a very select few of you," He pointedly looked towards the back of the room, and Michael attempted to glance back there as well, "this is your first encryption class, I wish you luck, for it will not be easy."

Michael could see JJ sitting there, a bored expression on his face; obviously Mr. Haywood didn't know what he was capable of. However, the bright-eyed brunette girl sitting next to him looked like she might puke.

***

A two hour class felt more like twelve when they finally got out of it; for being a relatively new teacher, Ryan (as he requested they call him; or if they were more bold 'o'captain, my captain' -- a reference that went over most of the students heads) knew what he was doing. 

"I can't believe he made us decode the Zodiac Cipher on the first day of class." Gavin groaned; walking backwards down the hallway so he could address the rest of the group. 

"Turn around, before you hurt yourself." Michael said; he always had to look out for that idiot. Gavin waved his hand in the air, brushing off Michael's comment. 

"It's one thing to muck about in old OSS code, but the Zodiac Cypher? It's minging; don't want to read a psychopaths weird letters." Gavin proceeded to have a whole body shiver at the thought of what the letters included, "That man is insane." 

"That man," JJ responded, glancing up from his phone and staring pointedly at Gavin, "is a genius and should be treated as such," 

"We're all geniuses though." Chimed in a voice from behind them. They all abruptly stopped and turned -- in unison like this was some stupid sitcom -- to stare at the short, unfamiliar blonde girl.

"We all had to pass aptitude tests to get into this school, right?" She continued, and then with a smile stuck out her hand. "Barbara Dunkleman. Canadian by birth, spy-in-training by choice." 

"Lindsay Tuggey." Michael glanced over at the red-haired girl, a questioning look on his face. Their group wasn't exactly elite, but they didn't exactly need anymore members. "They call me 'Tugg Life.'"

"No one calls you that," Gavin chuckled, leaning though the small space between Michael and Ray to shake this Barbara girl's hand, "Gavin Free, but you can call me tonight." 

Michael groaned and with a hand on Gavin's head, shoved him backwards. He took a small step towards Ray to make sure Gav couldn't get back through. 

"That's Michael, he has 'anger issues'" Lindsay said in a stage whisper to Barbara, obviously wanting to be heard. "The one playing the game is Ray, he's usually more energetic but he's trying to catch something shiny." 

"It's not something shiny, it's a Shiney." Ray said, not looking up from his red special edition DS, "I've told you that twenty times." 

"Kerry and Caleb," Ignoring Ray, she gestured to the two boys standing slightly behind Michael. They had lost interest in the situation and were currently deep in whispered conversation. Caleb stopped short, looking up when he heard his name. He gave her a small wave, then dove back into the conversation. 

"Finally, this one. Everyone just calls him JJ." Lindsay chuckled, plopping a hand down on JJ's shoulder. He grimaced slightly, but let her keep it there for now.

"We have CoveOps in ten." Gavin piped up, jumping slightly to see over Michael's shoulder. They all groaned; Gavin was usually so horrible at timing, it was annoying that he was so spot on today. 

The moved to leave when Barbara piped up, "CoveOps, is that the CO 210 class?" Lindsay nodded, and Barbara continued, "I'm going there too; could I go with you?" 

Michael simply shrugged and took off towards the east hall, Ray managing to keep fairly good pace with him even though he wasn't looking. Over ray's button tapping and Gavin's high-pitched annoying voice -- or maybe that's just how he interpreted Gav's voice -- he could hear Lindsay giggling at the new girl. 

The closer they got to their destination the less students they say. The Covert Operations classes, which for some reason were underground, were only accessible through the east hall. Because of that, it was a general consensus among students that you stayed out of that hall unless you were there for CoveOps.

The group stopped in front of a tapestry that depicted the creation of the academy; a gaudy looking mess of embroidery that Michael hated. He reached forward and placed his fingers against the soft fabric, the spots his fingers touched began to glow a bright red. 

"Operative Michael Jones. Clearance Sublevel two." A robotic voice called out as Michael removed his hand. Each person in the group did the same, and the same voice called out their name and clearance. Once all of them had checked in, the tapestry retracted into the ceiling revealing a small elevator that would take them down to their sublevel.

"I understand fitting people into cramped spaces," Ray said, pausing his game and pocketing it, "but there is no way we're all going to fit on that."

"We can just go down in two groups of four." Barbara suggested with a smile. Lindsay nodded in agreement, "You, Vav, Ray, JJ. In one. The rest of us in the other sounds good to me."

Michael sighed entering the elevator; apparently their group had just grown to eight.

**Author's Note:**

> French phrases (poorly translated I'm sorry) include:  
> JJ: "Hey, will you listen?"  
> Michael: "You must speak French."
> 
> Also, this is totally based on Gallagher Girls books and a gifset I made on tumblr.


End file.
